Family Ties
by livingwater89
Summary: Revision of A Family Perhaps, Duo is adopted into an ex Oz general's household at the end of the war, against his better judgement...


Rating: Rfor language and sexual talk/innuendo

Pairings: This is YAOI, meaning GAY, Pairings are hopefully heading towards 1x2

Warnings: Lauguage, TWT, OOC-hopefully not a lot of that, oh, and me not knowing geography very well.

AN: Hello People! Sorry about the wait, but I sort of stumbled and fell off the face of the planet for a little bit. But I'm back now! Anyway, I was rereading A Family Perhaps, and lets just say: Ew. I can write better than that. I was going to just ditch the thing, but a lot of people threatened me with bodily harm. I actually want to live (imagine that) so I'm just going to rewrite the thing. This hasn't been betad yet, but it should be later. I figured everyone's waited long enough that they wouldn't mind a few mistakes here or there. So yeah, on with the story.

**Chapter One**

I could barely hear the television over the usual loud din that the Sweepers made repairing one of Howard's more precious babies that had taken a bad hit by an asteroid during a salvage job. Man, I had thought the old dude was going to keel over with a heart attack when he found out that his little darling _Sugar Pie_ was coming back to dock with a bunch of asteroid bits stuck in her. She reminded me of a deranged and not very fluffy pincushion. Not that I actually said this out loud to Howard, the ship had been a gift from an ex-girlfriend of his, whom, he told me quite against my will, he had the best sex with in his entire life. He'd then given me a nudge and a wink, implying I think, that his sexual experiences were vast and many. Personally, I didn't want to know. As far as I was concerned, his whole nostalgic dependency on the ship was a creepy thing. And no, I wasn't being a hypocrite, Deathscythe and mine relationship was on whole different level then Howard and _Sugar Pie's_.

I glanced up from fixing the wiring that that big hulking rock had ripped apart on the right side to see the television. I could hear snippets of the topic, something to do with the Preventers, and lately, whenever the Preventers were brought up, the fate of the Gundam Pilots soon followed. Not that it affected me in anyway. I was working with Howard for the time being, doing something I loved that didn't require any violence of any kind. Okay, that was a lie; there were always the occasional fist fights that broke out, but almost all the time nobody died in one of those. They just required long stays at the hospitable. I had no intentions of leaving the Sweepers anytime soon and it wasn't any fucking politician's right to know who, what, and where I was.

Lady Une was standing up and arguing with a Senator dude or something, words like "privacy" and "public's safety" kept on drifting towards me, but I couldn't make out the sentences. I decided that this was as good a time as they came for a lunch break and headed over to the corner where the T.V was kept on full blast, snatching my brown paper lunch that Margie, the Sweeper's head chef, always made me. I was her favorite little "nephew" after all.

Plopping down on one of the ragged, oiled stained couches placed in front of the T.V—the three couches were positioned so that the mechanics could feel like they were eating or relaxing in a television room instead of an out-of-the-way corner in a Sweeper garage—and began to eat.

"The public has the right to their safety," the Senator Dude that Une was debating with said. He had a navy business suit on and wavy brown hair that was cut sensibly. He wasn't really handsome, but he had a strong, determined face that was clean shaven and stood at what I would estimate was 6' 1". He didn't look military though he had great posture, and at first glance you didn't even notice the small pot belly he had.

"I'm not arguing that," Une stated calmly. Now, talk about improvement. Her hair was down and no longer in her scary buns, she had contacts now or just wasn't wearing her glasses, and instead of that freakish OZ uniform, she had an attractive dark-yet-not-navy blue skirt suit on. Hell, she was actually pretty…well pretty if I could wipe my memory clear of her laughing psychotically at my impending execution at her orders.

"However," she continued as I bit into my sandwich, "I can not, and will not, divulge the Gundam Pilots' whereabouts simply on the demands of the public. The public has a right to a great many things, invading a group of individuals' privacy simply to satisfy an itching curiosity is not one of them. The war is over. We must learn our lessons from it and now focus our energy on rebuilding what we almost lost for good. Ogling five young pilots is a waste of time and if the public wants to waste time like that, there is more than enough celebrities in Hollywood and the music industry for them to drool over."

"My dear Commander Une," the Senator said tightly, "I resent the implication that I am only interested in knowing the whereabouts of the Gundam Pilots just so I could watch them like they were some reality T.V show. I'm not suggesting we make a spectacle of these former terrorists, but keep them under tabs at all times."

A man sitting in the audience of which I assumed was a bunch of other politicians stood up roughly, "I object, Senator Wilkson, in labeling the Gundam Pilots as terrorist. They were the leading force of the colonies rebel army, freedom fighters that we all owe our lives and liberties to. The colonies of L3 find offence in your name-calling, it is childish and beneath this council." He sat back down to a murmur of approval from what I guessed was the colony section in the Council Hall.

I sipped from Dr. Pepper. Such pretty words from L3. I appreciate the sentiment folks, but no matter how the colonies dressed it up or what angle they looked at it, freedom fighter always meant terrorist to the other side. And no one can change that feeling by protesting it so why bother? Better to know how a person really felt about an issue then to try and guess what lay behind that false and pretty smile of theirs.

Une ignored the slight muttering, "What are you suggesting Senator? That we implant tracking devices in each pilot? Release their names and pictures to the media? Keep them locked up in a secure area? Basically rip apart all their efforts at rebuilding lives they have never had a chance to actually live? Really, Senator, I am quite curious, what exactly are you proposing?"

"I'm proposing that the government keep a tight rein on these extensively trained," he paused for a moment then sneered sarcastically, "_soldiers_. These young men are quite capable of starting another war and who is to say they won't? In times of peace they are more than likely to become restless. And now that their controllers, the Gundam scientists, have been confirmed dead, who could manage and restrain them?"

"I assure you that the Gundam Pilots would do nothing to endanger the Peace they have worked so hard to create. Each of them has sacrificed far more than most people could ever dream of. And you dare suggest that they would make light of such sacrifices just because they became restless? How arrogant are you?" Une growled. I suppose that hit a nerve, seeing how she was one of the top people who had help maintain the role OZ played in the war, and anything said about us could easily apply to her.

"Simply practical. I have had enough of war and never wish to see another one."

Une opened her mouth, paused to reconsider her thoughts, then said, "Then we have the same goal in the end. I have created Preventers so that another war will never have the chance to flourish. I will do anything and everything in my power to see that this is so. The Gundam Pilots have agreed to be kept as the Preventers' advisors and weapons of last resorts. When they have become of age, they have agreed to work either full or part time with the agency. I see, however that further compromise is needed.

"After much discussion with the heads of this Council, we have agreed that if need be, each Gundam Pilot will be assigned a guardian who will monitor for three years their assigned pilot's actions. They will make bimonthly reports to the Council and myself. Any suspicious activities will be investigated. However, the names and locations of the guardians and pilots will still remain confidential, and sadly Senator Wilkson, neither you nor your public have been cleared for such information."

Une sat down, indicating in no uncertain terms that this discussion was over. Some old guy banged a hammer on a desk, but I was too furious to pay attention.

What the hell was that all about? It's one thing for them to discuss me and the guys, but to actually make a fucking discussion without even asking us, or more importantly, me? Uh-uh, no fucking way was this shit going down. I didn't need no fucking, stick in the ass, guardian to "monitor" my behavior. If Une thought she could get away with that, well crazy psycho bitch or not, she could just go and fuck herself.


End file.
